The Walls Were Red
by Welcome-to-the-Hellmouth
Summary: AU, Natasha began training when she was 9 years old. She had no family. Nobody that would notice she was gone. Her parents had perished in an apartment fire when she was a baby, and she was taken into the local orphanage. But there was a boy, a strange, little American boy, that wanted to be her friend. Follows from 'The Red Room.' To the Avengers. Clintasha.
1. Chapter 1

The Walls Were Red

_Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow and Clint Barton/Hawkeye_

Hello all, I am the user user _Welcome-to-the-Hellmouth, _and here is the first installment of my new fanfic 'The Walls Were Red.' I'm not new to writing fanfiction, I'm just operating under a new pseudonym . Mainly because I prefer the name Welcome-to-the-Hellmouth_, _purely for humorous reasons. If you wish to read more, please review, favorite and/or follow this story.

_Description:_

_AU, Natasha began training when she was 9 years old. She had no family. Nobody that would notice she was gone. Her parents had perished in an apartment fire when she was a baby, and she was taken into the local orphanage. But there was a boy, a strange, little American boy, that wanted to be her friend._

_(Follows the life of Natasha Romanoff, from 'The Red Room.' To the Avengers. Although not necessarily in that order.)_

_Note: In the few 'Red Room' chapters, Natasha shall be known as Natalia Romanova._

_Contains: Swearing, Homosexual relationships and fluff._

The girl came on a cold winter's day. Winter, obviously a cold time of year, was even more so in Russia. She was eight, young and impressionable. A perfect candidate. Natalia Romanova was a beautiful child, even for her age, she had wide, open eyes and naturally curled red hair. Her parents, deceased of course, were commoners, yet Natalia remained elusively intelligent.

The trials were easily passed, when confronted with equations that would trouble someone triple her age, she would blink solemnly and work through it. Although she had no training in combat exercises, she managed to defeat others in her weight class. By the age of nine, she had begun training for the Black Widow program. She made no friends, and showed no interest in others, except to obey orders.

"Tasha, Tasha, just hold on a little bit longer, come on you can do it." Clint urged.

I could hear him, which meant at least one ear-drum was functioning. Good. He was breathing loudly, and I think that he was lying beside me, protecting me from oncoming bullets whilst he tried to figure out what was wrong.

'_It's my shoulder Barton.' I thought at him. _But I couldn't move. No even my fingers. I was stuck.

"Come on Tasha, stay with me." He burst.

I heard 6 arrows whistle from Barton's bow. Then the sound of 6 bodies dropping sequentially. The shooting stopped. I could feel Barton move, and I heard him pull out his phone.

He dialed a number, and waited.

"Phil? This is an emergency. You know that surveillance op you put us on? Well, it wasn't abandoned. Natasha's down... No Phil, I don't know what's wrong with her, what should I do? Take her there? Okay, 5 hours Phil, the jet has to be there."

He hung up.

"Okay Nat, I'm just gonna pick you up now. That okay?"

I didn't respond. His arms moved to encircle me, and grabbed around my waist. This time I couldn't hold back my gasp as he knocked my shoulder back.

"Son of a bitch… Okay Nat, you're awake, which is good. I'm going to take you to the hangar down on the West Quay, and I need you to do as I say."

I grunted.

"There's my girl. Hang on till we get there 'kay?"

I did as I was told, for once. He carried me up a ladder, and on to the top of Roman Enterprises.

He ran across a street, and horns followed us for the next mile or so. Then he mamaged to 'get ahold' of a pair of car keys.

I heard the door open, and he stuffed me inside. The door then shut, and the opposite opened. "Okay, shit, air strip, yes, shit, fuck."

I opened my eyes to see Barton looking at me.

"That's no way to treat a lady Barton. You're meant to be suave when carrying her away."

"Yes, he chuckled, I know Tasha. We need to get to the hangar, once I stop the car, do you think you can run for it?"

"Yes, I'll run."

"Good, okay, I'll have to patch you up once we get there alright?"

I nodded.

The car sped down the streets, taking over when necessary, also when not. We just had to get there before deadline.

I saw people atop of the Hangar, a second look made it certain, Italian mafia. Two shots from my Marakov did the trick, but as I lowered my arm, I realized my mistake.

It began to bleed, excessively so, and I did what I swore I would never do, the girl thing, the fucking stereotypical faint. And I actually heard the bastard laugh.

Just as I was slipping into unconsciousness, he spoke.

"Oh, Natasha has a 'wittle scratch, what a baby. He giggled, the asshole giggled. As I closed my eyes he looked at me, and my shoulder, and realized his mistake. "Oh, shit, shit, shit. Phil is going to kill me."

As I went into the darkness of my mind, I laughed.


	2. Remembering the Past

Hello fellow procrastinators. Here is an update; I will try to update this story at least 2 times per week. Basically just leave me a review or PM to tell me what you think of the plot line so far.

_2 Days later:_

"She hasn't woken up yet Phil, I think Banner give her too much… Thing, the sleepy thing."

I held my com next to my ear, waiting for a reply. Sure, I was supposed to be supervising the new recruits, seeing who would succeed, who wouldn't. I couldn't be bothered though. Not when Nat wasn't awake yet.

"_Clint, she will wake up within a few hours and she'll be fine. You know how the repressors work. She'll wake up, with no memory of the accident, probably the past few days, so you're going to have to inform her, okay?"_

"Got it Phil, and thanks."

I turned off my com and made my way into the medical ward. I hated the place, so did Tasha. For different reasons of course. Myself? Because of experiments to enhance my archery skills. Natasha? Well, we all know why she does.

I knew that she would be kept in isolation ward 3. In case she lashed out at medical attendants, the other guy was there to stop her. Essentially, Bruce was babysitting.

The door way was wide, and slightly short for my liking. But as the glass doors slid apart, none of that really mattered anymore. Nat was awake.

I could hear her now.

"It's a fucking television remote; can't you just pass the damn thing to me?"

I laughed. And her head whipped around to face me.

"Barton, please hand me the remote. She looked at the attendant with her widow mask in full motion. "You may leave now."

The attendant, Mary if my memory serves me correct, scampered away like a banshee.

I chuckled.

"So, what's life like in the slow lane Nat? What do you remember?"

"Bullets, arrows, the targets were hit? Am I correct?"

"Yes, Chekov went down, you hit him in the cranium."

She grimaced.

"Survivors?"

"None." Her mask went up again, but I'd been around Natasha long enough to tell what she was really feeling, and it sure as hell wasn't pretty.

Russia, she was remembering Russia. The room, the people.

Clint remembered that there was a little girl. She couldn't have been more than 8 at the time. Natasha had caught her sneaking food from the kitchens. Natasha didn't have to, she wasn't told to. She held the gun to the girls head, made her apologize and then Natasha pulled the trigger.

She was praised for her work. She became the favorite pupil, the best candidate for the black widow program. Natasha was eleven. She was nine when Ivan took her. She was nine when her life ended.

I looked at Natasha, glad that I had stopped her before it was too late. But that was how she lived, for ten years that was what she did. She would laugh in the face of death. I knew for sure, I read her file.

There was good reason for her not to talk to me. So I merely sat next to her, and said nothing.

"_Natalia, there is a new boy here today. I wish for you to make friends."_

"_I have no friends Baba, they do not want me." She whispered._

"_Nonsense, the woman smiled. You are a fine girl Natalia. One day, you shall have many friends. Good night Natalia."_

"_Good night Baba."_

_The door closed, and Natalia slept, she dreamt of a picnic, sitting in the winter snow with her family, enjoying the weak rays of sunlight that winter provided. Natalia knew that this would never happen. Her parents had no time for such things, after all, until she reached the age of marriage, she was of no use to her family. Natalia was smart, the brightest in her age-group and she realized that one day, her nightmares would become her reality._

_She had known Alexi for years, and they were to be married, come the day Natalia turned 18. For a 9 year old, Natalia Romanova knew far too much._

_She awoke in the arms of a strange man._

_He told her that his name was Ivan, and that they would be spending a lot of time together._

_Her parents had died, she knew that much. _

_Natalia had never truly been alone, but now. She was. _

_And she was scared._


End file.
